


Something To Regret

by MissDrarryDawn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anger, Dates, Drarry, M/M, PostWar, bet, fake - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 16:34:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20642267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissDrarryDawn/pseuds/MissDrarryDawn
Summary: As part of a bet, Draco Malfoy has to woo Harry Potter into going on 3 dates with him. He does, but things spiral downwards very quickly when they catch this little annoying bug called feelings.//Completed//Word count: 15.4k





	Something To Regret

**Author's Note:**

> imma be real honest with ya, the only reason this exists is because i woke up cranky today, and wanted to project my woes onto draco and harry. regardless, i hope you enjoy it!

"Go on a date with me, Potter."

Harry blinked. Then blinked again. Then pinched himself just for good measure. Nope, he was awake. 

"Come again?" He muttered, staring at the unyielding gray stare boring into him.

"You heard me." Malfoy's eyebrow twitched. 

"I did, but you weren't making any sense. Actually, you still aren't." Harry sighed, completely cornered and confused. 

"I want you to go on a date with me." Malfoy repeated, very slowly, as if he was explaining something to a very young, dumb child. And try as he might, Harry couldn't be offended, mostly because that was actually true. 

"Why?" He asked, brows furrowing. He had retained enough of his coherency back to question this situation. The corridor they were in was cleared of students. Just a few minutes prior, Malfoy had about-faced him and walked him into a corner, snarling at him, and Harry attempted to get away, but Malfoy didn't let him slip and so, eventually, they were left alone in the hall. Which was when Malfoy decided to upend the natural order of the Wizarding World with 7 words.

"Why do people usually ask someone to go on a date with them, Potter? Honestly." The blonde rolled his eyes, shaking his head. 

Harry couldn't help but scoff:

"You aren't doing a very good job of persuading me to agree. In fact, I'd say you're doing a dreadful job of it."

Malfoy didn't rise to the bait, instead only arched a blonde eyebrow. Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, another deep sigh shuttering out of him.

"Malfoy, are you sure you're alright? All good in the head? Have you been getting enough sleep?" Harry asked, actually worried about the git for a moment.

"Yes. I'm of sound mind, Potter, don't you worry." Malfoy's tone was strained, as if he exerted a lot of patience just to remain cordial. 

"So let me get this straight. You, Draco Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, who has loathed my existence for 7 years and has always made sure to let me know just how much so, have just come up to me out of the goddamn blue and asked me on a date?"

Malfoy nodded. Harry blinked dumbly again. This had to be some sort of set-up. 

"Excuse me if I'm a little skeptical." The raven remarked dryly. "A date." He repeated to himself.

"Merlin, Potter, one would think I asked you to walk into your death." Malfoy snapped, then cringed at his own words when he'd realized what he'd said. Now it was Harry's turn to arch an unamused eyebrow:

"Ha-ha, charming as always. I don't understand where this came from, but I'll bite, though I have a nagging feeling I'll regret this. When and where?" Harry's shoulders slumped. He couldn't believe he was agreeing to this. He couldn't believe he actually felt intrigued by this offer. Malfoy certainly was blunt, didn't beat around the bush, which is something Harry had come to appreciate. He spat it to you like it was, no sugarcoating, which was useful when no one else around you seemed to be willing to tell you the fucking truth. 

"Hogsmeade, this weekend. I'll meet you there at 8?" Malfoy spoke, smiling. Smiling. Malfoy. Was. Smiling. Gods, this couldn't be good. 

"Right." Harry nodded, and prodded at Malfoy's shoulder, so the taller boy would let him pass. The blonde stepped away, and Harry buggered off to class, unsettled to the core.

~

"He said yes." Draco's smug smirk rendered Blaise momentarily speechless.

"Wait, he did? He _actually_ agreed?" The dark skinned boy scoffed, unable to believe it.

"Yep. I can't believe the idiot said yes." Draco shook his head, sitting down next to Blaise, smirking like a menace at his friend:

"What was our bet again, Zabini? If I get 3 dates with Potty, you have to stop pathetically pining over Longbottom and finally ask him out? Well, I just got one date, so I suggest you brace yourself."

"I can not _believe_ Potter agreed to go on a _date_ with you." Blaise grumbled. "Just when I thought I'd made a bet with you that you'll certainly lose." He shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. Draco snickered:

"Not even the Golden Boy can resist my charm."

Blaise rolled his eyes:

"More likely he took pity on you, seeing as no one dares come within 5 feet of you after the war." 

Draco punched him in the arm and pursed his lips:

"Nah, I'm just irresistible."

Pansy was listening to their conversation, and she was _not _happy. No, not at _all_. Ever since she learned what Draco and Blaise had bet on, she hadn't rested easy. If it was anything else, _anyone_ else, she might have been able to brush it off, to ignore it, to justify it to herself, but it was Potter. _Potter._ Draco owed his life and freedom to Potter, and he'd bet on him with Blaise. To make it all worse, he bet on account of Potter's _feelings_. Such things were just _not_ to be messed with, under any circumstances. Limits existed, and some limits were final, not to be crossed. Emotional manipulation was that limit in Pansy's opinion. They were Slytherins, not monsters, for Salazar's sake! They were better than this. But no, Draco had to go being stubborn and prideful and get himself into this mess, and what's worse, drag another innocent person down with him. And, of course, Draco picked Harry Potter. _Of course._ She frowned at the two, who were paying her no heed as they sniggered at Potter, and the fact that he agreed. Gods, she felt _bad_ for the guy, which is a sentiment she never thought she'd hold for the Savior. 

~

Harry didn't pay attention in class. How could he? 

He had just agreed to go on a bloody date with Draco fucking Malfoy.

What the hell had he gotten himself into?

That prat was bound to be more difficult than Voldemort ever was, and Harry was sure of it.

So sure in fact, that he'd considered either cancelling, or just plain not showing up. 

Malfoy would call him a coward then, though, and while that was true, Harry found he only ever acted cowardly when it came to Malfoy in particular. If he could, Harry would just avoid him forever, because he didn't want any conflicts. And now, he'd gone and agreed to a date. He was puzzled as to why Malfoy even asked him, or rather, demanded. _Of course _Harry knew _why_ someone asked someone else out to a date usually, but Harry couldn't find it even remotely plausible that Malfoy would harbor any such feelings. There had to be something more. Harry couldn't imagine Malfoy ever liking him in any way, which only left the possibility that this was all some twisted little game, though Harry did not like making assumptions akin to that one anymore, because he knew better than anyone how false assumptions can ruin someone. He just felt as if something was _wrong_. So wrong about this. 

~

"What's got you moping?" Ron murmured over dinner, after classes.

"Me? Oh, uh, nothing." Harry lied as he swallowed a generous gulp of pumpkin juice to occupy himself. He didn't exactly feel up to discussing this with either of his best friends, at least not until he figured out what it was that Malfoy _really_ wanted. Right now, he had no idea what he'd agreed to, and for all he knew, Malfoy wouldn't even show up, and use this whole ordeal as a ruse to humiliate Harry. Though, if that's his plan, it's a piss-poor plan, because Harry wouldn't feel humiliated. With the amount of times his name was spammed across the press, humiliation was a feeling he just turned off over time. 

"Harry, mate, I've known you for how long now? You're a terrible liar." Ron quirked an eyebrow. Harry chewed his lip, staring down into his plate. He _really_ didn't want to talk about this with Ron. 

"I'm fine Ron. No need to worry." He gave Ron his most convincing smile. "Just tired after all the classes." 

Ron still seemed very skeptical, but he relented, nodding and returning to his food. Harry sighed, his appetite gone by now.

~

"I can't believe I agreed to this." 

The raven muttered to himself for the upteenth time as he got dressed to head to Hogsmeade. He couldn't believe himself, that he was going through with this. The days leading up to this were, quite frankly, sickening. A million and one thought crossed Harry's head as to _why_ Malfoy was doing this, _what_ he wanted and so on. Harry had considered the possibilities that this was a a dare or a bet of some sorts, which wouldn't be surprising, and while he didn't exactly fancy getting played like that, compared to the other grim options, he preferred that one. Either way, today would be the day he found out. Or he hoped he would anyways. 

~

"I can't believe Potter is going through with it." Blaise muttered while Draco got ready. The blonde grinned wolfishly:

"Ah, Zabini, you've underestimated me."

Blaise shook his head:

"He might not show."

"And taint his Gryffindor honor? He'd never. He'll be there, you'll see." Draco rolled his eyes. In truth, he was less bothered by the notion of going on a date with Potter than he'd assumed he'd be when they made the bet. It was a ridiculous bet of course, but Blaise challenged Draco, and the blonde couldn't resist a good challenge. He expected a very awkward day ahead of him, since Potter always did strike him as the blushing bride type of bloke, which was incredibly pathetic. He'd suck it up though, if it'll get Blaise to shut up about Longbottom and actually finally ask him out. 

"Merlin, you're going on a date with Harry Potter." Blaise snorted, falling back onto his bed while Draco did his buttons up. 

"Lucky me." The blonde remarked dryly, not an ounce of sincerity in the words.

~

"You came." Were the first very undignified words out of Harry's mouth when he had spotted Malfoy and walked over to him.

"So I did. I asked you to come with me didn't I? Why wouldn't I come?" The reply was terse, if not a bit amused.

"I still think you have some ulterior motive." Harry mused, falling into step beside Malfoy, who snorted:

"Go figure. Man, you're paranoid."

"I literally died and came back to life Malfoy. I'm excused." Harry chuckled, making light of a very traumatizing experience. It was easier that way.

"I always did wonder what happened in the forest." Malfoy shrugged, pointedly ignoring the few odd looks tossed their way.

"Now you may wonder no more." Harry rolled his eyes, shaking his head. Right, that was a civil exchange. Okay.

They lapsed into an oddly comfortable silence, walking through Hogsmeade. To say Harry was surprised, would be an understatement.

"What do people even do on dates?" He suddenly blurted, cheeks heating when he realized what he'd asked. Malfoy lasted all of 3 seconds before starting to laugh, and Harry pouted to himself.

"Really, Potter? Have you never been on a date before?" 

"Well, no." Harry admitted, shrugging one shoulder. "There were more pressing matters at the time."

He expected a verbal lashing, but Malfoy just sighed next to him:

"People talk on dates, for one." 

Now it was Harry's turn to laugh:

"And what, pray tell, do me and you have in common to talk about?"

He glanced at Malfoy, to find the bastard with a self-satisfied smirk on his face, posture relaxing while he walked. The blonde shrugged:

"We'll figure it out." 

"Will we now?" Harry couldn't believe that he was admitting this wasn't so bad. He still had that nagging feeling that something was off, but it wasn't as jarring as it had been just a few hours ago. 

"Sure we will. I'm smart enough, and you're..well you, but I'm certain you'll chip in somehow." Malfoy grinned. Harry rolled his eyes:

"You wound me." He snickered, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"It's what I live for." Malfoy ran a hand through his hair.

"The ever loving menace, you are." Harry fiddled with his pockets, lips quirking upwards despite himself.

And that was that. They ran out of conversation. On one hand, it was horrid, on the other, it was fine, pleasant even. Harry wasn't actually sure how he felt about the situation. He was on a date with Draco Malfoy, which in of itself is an abhorration. At the same time, Malfoy made for decent enough company so that nothing was awkward, and those two facts conflicted sorely.

"Sickle for your thoughts?" Malfoy snapped him out of his stupor.

"I can't believe this, is all." Harry laughed, though it was empty. "You and me? You have to admit, this is strange." 

Harry thought that Malfoy might be offended for a moment, but judging from his laugh, he seemed to agree:

"Potter, you've been through stranger."

"Nope. No Dark Lord will ever be stranger than going on a date with you. That you asked me to no less. Well, ask isn't the right word." 

"It's not?" The blonde's brows furrowed.

"No. You demanded a date." Harry chortled. "Spoiled prat, always got what you wanted, you just go around demanding dates."

He noticed Malfoy's cheek lightly flush. Heh.

"It worked didn't it?" He retorted, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Oh please. If I wasn't so dead set on discovering what dark plot you've concocted, I would have probably punched you." Harry shrugged.

"Dark plot?" Malfoy sounded genuinely confused, and it caught Harry off guard.

"I find it incredibly difficult to believe you genuinely like me and are here just because you want to be." Harry deadpanned. If Malfoy afforded him the courtesy of being blunt, Harry would return the favor.

"Tough for you then, because there's no dark plot this time." Malfoy muttered. His voice sounded sincere enough, if a bit strained. Harry didn't quite know what to make of it.

"Right. So no bullshit then?" He had to be sure.

"No, Potter, no bullshit." Malfoy's lips were pressed into a thin line.

Harry nodded, relieved.

~

"He's dumber than I ever thought he was, and that's saying something." Draco complained as soon as he walked into the common room, plopping besides Blaise, who was reading quietly.

"Ah, so the date went well, I take it." The dark skinned boy put his book aside, tone dry.

"He asked me what people do on dates. He's clueless and pathetic." Draco snipped, rolling his eyes incessantly. Lying through his teeth was easy enough when Potter lapped up everything Draco gave like a dog, and feigning interest was just part of being a Malfoy. 

"Oh come on, it couldn't have _all_ been that bad, surely Potter has redeeming qualities." Blaise shrugged. Really, there is no way everything was awful.

"None. He is awkward, and clumsy, and lost. He tripped over his own feet and came crashing into me, Blaise! If I hadn't caught him, he would have kissed the pavement." Draco tutted, omitting the part where Potter clung to him for a moment, before stepping back, flushed, with a muttered thanks on his lips.

"That certainly is embarrassing." Blaise had to agree.

"Exactly! We went to Honeyduke's right? He managed to spill his Butterbeer all over himself, then mess up the cleaning charm, so what he ended up doing was make the stain bigger, making his shirt cling to him like an utter mess." The blonde complained, omitting the part where he stared at Potter's toned chest exposed by the wet shirt plastered to it.

"Wow. And that's the guy who killed the Dark Lord? Disappointing." Blaise shook his head. Potter was a lost cause, it seemed.

"Extremely. Though, I didn't really have high expectations going into this, in fact, my expectations were in the minus." Draco sighed, rubbing his temples. Potter was such a tiresome fool.

"You're being very pessimistic about it." Blaise pointed out. "While Potter certainly is..lacking in pretty much everything, you can still have fun. At his expense, naturally." 

Draco smirked:

"Oh that, my dear Blaise, I will certainly do." His smirk was cold while he spoke, though once again omitting the part where he _had _actually had fun.

~

After Harry returned to his common room, he still wasn't sure what to feel. He went on a date with Malfoy, and as horrid as he expected everything to go over, it went smoothly. Either Malfoy was a brilliant actor, or he just simply liked Harry. Neither eased Harry's tension. What did this mean for them? What, would they still just avoid each other in the halls, like they'd been doing thus far in 8th year? Harry didn't expect Malfoy would be eager to start talking, but at the same time, the raven felt as if this date must've changed _something_ at least. 

And if it did, _what_ exactly?

Malfoy sounded honest enough when he told Harry there was no bullshit behind this ordeal, which meant Malfoy just liked Harry. And Harry wasn't sure how he felt about that. If he even believed it in the first place. There were a lot of things to process, such as the implications of him getting into this more. Harry's brain was honestly fried, and he wished he could tell Hermione, because one always turned to Hermione for help, but he didn't exactly want to have the awkward, stilted conversation about sexualities and agreeing to dates with Malfoy of all people, and how he was incredibly daft for doing so. Harry knew he was daft, but he'd also had a nice time, and if he was being sincere, it did scare him a little.

~

Pansy Parkinson had spent the entire evening seething in the common room while her two idiot friends continued poking jabs at Potter. She had been very vocal about her displeasure with the bet even before Draco had gotten into it, but he shrugged of all of her words. She gritted her teeth remembering how he brushed her off as if she was nothing else but lint on his clothes.

_"Draco please, listen to me. Don't make the bet!" Pansy hissed._

_"Why not? It'll be fun messing with Potter." The blonde shrugged, not once looking up from his homework._

_"He saved your life, you ungrateful bastard!" Pansy seethed, trying to yank his homework away from him, but he simply moved away._

_"I also saved his. We're even." He sounded so bored, only half-listening to her._

_"Draco!" Pansy yelled, finally snatching his parchments away, forcing him to finally look up at her._

_"What?" He snapped, glaring._

_"Don't do this. This isn't funny." She pleaded, hoping to get through to him._

_"And you honestly call yourself a Slytherin, Pans. Disappointing." He shook his head at her accompanied by an eye roll, and Pansy was near tears at this point. _

_"If I wasn't looking at you, I would have thought it was your father speaking to me. And that's saying something Draco." She gave him his homework back, turning away, swallowing a sob. _

_She knew Draco resented his father, which is why it terrified her how much alike the cruel man he was becoming. She spared him one final glance, only to see him impassively shrug and return to his homework as if nothing happened._

The memory still made Pansy angry. So angry. With a startle, she realized she had been gripping her goblet tight enough to leave smears of her fingers on it. Letting an angry sigh flutter out of her, she let go, and stared across the Great Hall at Potter, who was staring at Draco quizzically, as if trying to figure something out. She found herself losing her appetite over breakfast, a whole night after that first "date" and the unpleasant memory depriving her of her want for food. Her stomach twisted with guilt as Potter kept his eyes on Draco, who was ignoring him with a visible smug smirk. 

~

"Fancy another date?" 

Harry turned around, seeming Malfoy leaning on the wall casually, smiling openly with a cocked eyebrow. For a moment, Harry was tempted to smile back, Malfoy looked very handsome this way. He pressed back his grin, unsure of what the blonde would think of it. He wasn't sure what he himself thought of it.

"I'm asking this time." Malfoy shrugged, grin getting wider. Harry snorted:

"I see. Er, sure? At this point, I have nothing to lose." 

Malfoy gave him a place and time, and walked off with a 'see you then Potter' tossed over his shoulder.

Harry hummed in response, running a hand over his face. The first time he agreed, it was out of pure suspicion and curiosity, now, now it was because he had fun, and didn't mind a repeat. That wasn't good, nothing about this was good. He shouldn't be having fun going on dates with Malfoy, he shouldn't be thinking Malfoy was handsome, or be tempted to smile at him. They had so much bad history, too much. It couldn't be healthy. No. This wasn't good. What was he digging himself into? 

~

"Got the second date Blaise. Have you come up with a smooth pick-up line yet?"

Draco swooped into their dorm, smiling like a madman while Blaise flushed. He had earnestly thought that Draco would lose the bet in a heartbeat, and he'd have more time to grow a pair to ask Neville out. He'd underestimated Draco though, and he was sure never to do that in the future. 

"You're cheating. I know it. After that utter disaster of the first "date", I can't believe he agreed to a second one. You cursed him, I don't believe this for a second." Blaise stubbornly shook his head and pouted. He expected Draco to retort with something witty and annoying, but he was _shocked _to see that all Draco did was shrug.

_What?_

"Draco..." Blaise started carefully. "Don't tell me you actually had_ fun_?" 

"No, of course not--" Draco piped up immediately, a bit too quickly perhaps, voice an octave higher. Blaise arched an eyebrow and Draco looked away. "I had fun laughing at his stupidity, of course. Not anything more. I actually _do_ have standards Blaise." 

"Which is why you suddenly can't look me in the eyes while talking to me." Blaise pointed out, a smirk tugging on the edges of his lips. This was absolute _gold_. Draco's eyes flicked to his right away, and Blaise was 0.3 seconds away from laughing. The look on Draco's face was priceless. It was completely blank, but his eyes were a bit too wide for someone who was telling nothing but the truth. Heh. The dark skinned boy didn't comment on it though, just shrugged trying to suppress his grin.

~

Their second date was down by the Black lake, a cute little picnic. It was awfully cheesy, and Draco snickered at the set up while he waited for Potter. Merlin, this was ridiculous. Potter arrived soon enough, plopping down next to Draco quite gracelessly, giving him a small smile.

"Hello Malfoy." He greeted, looking out over the lake.

"Potter. Do tell, what compelled you to say yes to yet another date?" Draco asked, unable to resist. The first date, Potter was convinced Draco was up to something and had come out of pure curiosity, but this second one was a mystery.

"I had fun last time, strangely enough." Potter shrugged, eyes not looking away from the calm water.

Draco's breath hitched. Potter had had fun. For some reason, that bothered him.

"Fun? Really, you'll need to come up with a better lie than that." Draco shook his head. He didn't want Potter to have _fun._

"Problem is, I'm not lying. It was strange, but I had fun." Potter turned to look at Draco, another shrug in his shoulders. His eyes were honest, a clear green.

"Huh. I'm endlessly pleased that I entertained you." Draco smiled, biting his lip. Why did Potte have fun? 

"Did you have fun?" Potter asked, and that really threw Draco for a spin. What the hell kind of question was that?

"What?" Draco murmured dumbly, turning his head away.

"Well, it was a date wasn't it, Malfoy? Both parties should have fun, by definition." Potter was speaking so easily, as if this was chatter over tea.

"Would we be here if I didn't have fun Potter?" Draco rolled his eyes, his sentence sharp with extra bite to cover his surprise at how Potter seemed to care whether Draco enjoyed himself.

"I suppose not." Potter relented. "So what else do people do on dates? Surely they don't just talk?" He grinned a bit bashfully. Draco cocked an eyebrow:

"Honestly Potter, if I have to give you a step-by-step guide on dating--" He started haughtily, but Potter's easy laugh cut in:

"I didn't exactly expect to live long enough to go on a date, do forgive my incompetence." 

There he went again, joking about very scary times. Draco didn't like it for some reason. The reason of Potter not being alive.

"You're forgiven, you dumb oaf. People do soppy shit on dates, but I swear to Merlin if you attempt anything I will hex your bollocks off-" Draco was going to finish that sentence, he really was, but he had promptly forgotten what he was planning to say when Potter grabbed his hand, intertwining their fingers gently.

"I'll take that chance." The raven smiled again, staring out over the lake once more, his expression content. 

Draco blinked down at their connected hands, startled by how, despite him being taller than Potter, his hand was an annoyingly good fit with Potter's. He blinked again, and kept staring, before Potter's chortle snapped him out of his stupor:

"I assume I did it right by your stricken expression. What, have you never held hands with anyone before? This _is _a date, isn't it?" 

Draco swallowed and nodded, half shrugging, tearing his eyes away and desperately trying to focus on something else. Eventually he settled on glaring at a tree branch, whilst he attempted to find something appropriate to say. Potter spared him the trouble though:

"So what was your excuse? I said I was going for a walk to clear my head."

Draco snorted at that. So Potter was keeping this a secret, then. Alright. 

"Ah, so you haven't informed the rest of your coterie about this?" He asked, just for something to say.

"No, I haven't. Still don't know what I've gotten myself into, and I don't want to involve anyone else yet. Unless you do something shady, I don't really plan on telling them. Ain't their business is it?" Potter removed his glasses with his free hand, throwing his head back to stare up at the sky.

"I s'pose not. I didn't need an excuse. The others mostly ignore me nowadays." Draco muttered, then realized that he'd slipped up. 

"Ah, I see. Did they give you a lot of shit at the start?" Potter asked, vibrant eyes stuck to the blue skies.

Draco bit his lip, pondering whether or not it was wise to be sharing anything with Potter. This was just for a bet, after all. Potter's gaze turned to him though, and for a second he seemed sympathetic.

"Yeah. A few jinxes and hexes here and there. Nothing I wasn't expecting." Draco relented, not daring to look at the other boy.

"Tossers." Potter muttered under his breath, shaking his head, seemingly irked.

"What do you mean?" The blonde couldn't help but ask.

"What I mean is, no one knows jack shit about what happened, but they all collectively decided to play righteous hero." Potter scoffed.

"You don't know anything either." Draco pointed out.

"And I'm not pretending to know, am I?" Potter shot back, giving him a meaningful look.

"Well, no, you aren't. How pretentious of you to shit on someone else for playing the 'righteous hero' though." Draco diverted the subject.

"Perhaps. At least I don't go around hexing someone I know very little about, so it's a point in my favor isn't it?" A small smile was on his face. Draco rolled his eyes, though he wasn't really annoyed.

"Yeah." Draco murmured, surprised how understanding Potter was being. Wasn't expecting it.

"You know I don't think Blood Purity is ridiculous at all." Potter quipped, eyes still following clouds rolling across the sky. "I think the way Voldemort went about it is ridiculous. I mean really, mass murder?" He shook his head. 

Draco could have sworn he'd squeezed the living daylights out of Potter's hand.

"Just when I thought there's nothing interesting about you, you come out and say something like that." He admitted after a moment. Potter snickered, but said nothing, as if waiting for Draco to say something more. "I do hope none of your Gryffindor pals heard you, for your own good." 

"Awe, are you worried about me?" Potter teased, thumb brushing over Draco's hand, which was still squeezing his own painfully.

"I would never." Draco rolled his eyes, chancing a glance at the raven. His head thrown back, eyes bright and clear staring at the sky, unruly hair everywhere. Draco's stomach burned.

"You're probably right though. They wouldn't see it, they'd just yell at me. It's not stupid at all. What's so wrong with wanting to keep your own with your own? If it was all sunshine and daisies, we wouldn't need to keep the Wizarding World a tightly locked away secret. Muggles burned witches and wizards at the stake once upon a time too, who's to say they wouldn't have equally as a horrible reaction again? In that regard, the idea of Blood Purity isn't ridiculous." Potter explained, eyes flicking to Draco who was staring at him blanched.

The blonde couldn't believe it. He _couldn't_ believe it. 

"I'm a little bit scared of you right now, I have to admit." He murmured.

"Yes, I know, I have a brain. Shocker." Potter rolled his eyes goodnaturedly. "I don't think the Muggleborn witches and wizards should be killed, which is where I disagree with Voldemort. In my opinion, the ideal solution would be to just not mix with the non-magical folk. Those born with magic cross into the Wizarding World and grow up here, and that's the end of that. The non-magical folk are left alone, blissful in their ignorance. Everyone's happy." He shrugged.

"No, really, you're actually scaring me." Draco muttered again, smiling despite himself. Potter was such a simple prick, but he made an effort to understand different ideas too.

"Oh come off it Malfoy!" Potter laughed, face lighting up with mirth.

"I can't believe you more or less got the general idea." Draco shook his head.

"I did? Oh that's great!" Potter sounded gleeful. "I couldn't exactly tell anyone about it in Gryffindor, they'd bite my head off. But ha! I got it! A pureblood confirmed it even!" He looked so happy.

Oh Gods, this dork. Draco was heaving with laughter, feeling warm.

"You're so childish." He asserted when he could breathe again.

"I'm just happy I understood something for once. I'm known to be a bit slow at times." Potter pouted, and Draco's eyebrow twitched. This was just for the bet, remember that.

"Like in Potions for example?" Draco offered, and Potter nodded.

"Yes, exactly. That's why I always force you to brew the potion when we're paired together, because I would make the cauldron explode and ruin your posh robes, and we can't let that happen, now can we?" He agreed readily.

"No, we most certainly can not." Draco concurred. 

"Think my name is funny, do you? No need to ask for yours, red hair, and a hand-me-down robe, you must be a Weasley." Potter suddenly quipped, doing his best expression of Draco's 11 year old voice. 

"Oh my God Potter no, please don't--" Draco started to flush, but Potter continued:

"You'll soon learn that some wizarding families are better than others. You wouldn't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you with that." 

Draco was mortified at how well Potter was impersonating him. 

"Potter I'm begging you, stop---" The blonde tried again, feeling his cheeks turn red. 

"I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks." Potter switched to imitating himself. Draco cringed quite visibly:

"I hate you so much." 

Potter started laughing, his laugh loud and free.

"Oh it was so great, Malfoy. So great." He heaved between chortles, then held up their entwined hands: 

"If our 11 year old selves could see us now.." 

Draco had to snort at that:

"I'd have burned my own bloody hand off." 

"I don't doubt that." Potter sniggered, lowering their hands on the blanket they were sitting on.

"Why did you do that anyways? You ruined my mood." Draco complained a moment later.

"Speaking of you and your poshness, I couldn't help but remember the first words ever exchanged between us. How stuck up you were." Potter had a wide smile on the entire time.

"I was 11!" Draco protested, pouting. "How the hell do you remember my exact words anyways?" 

"One does not forget their enemy's first words easily. I mean, I'm sure you could recite my rejection in your sleep." Potter teased, and Draco chose not to dignify that with a response, because he had, in fact, recited it in his sleep once or twice when he was 11 and still sour about it.

"I hate you." Draco settled on instead.

"So you've told me every day for the past 7 years, yet here we are, on the second date." Potter ran a hand through his god forsakenly soft hair.

"I loathe your very being." Draco murmured, crossing his legs.

"Yes, yes, sure you do." Potter waved him off, not taking him seriously at all. 

It was then that Draco noticed out of the corner of his eye someone approaching them. He saw red hair, and nudged Potter, who turned to glance around and noticed the Weasel approaching. Draco was about to drop Potter's hand, but Potter held on. 

"Harry..? What are you doing here? With _him_?" Weasel said, addressing Draco as if he was a wild beast. Draco snarled, but Potter simply smiled at his friend:

"He has a name Ron. And I'm talking to him." 

"Right. Let me rephrase that, why the bloody hell are you talking to _Malfoy_?" He punctuated Draco's name a bit too loudly. Potter's smile turned cold, but did not waver:

"Why not? The war's over Ron. There's no reason to still hold grudges." 

"People died because of him Harry." Weasley didn't relent. Draco cringed.

"People died because of me too. Hell, _I_ killed a man too." Potter shot back.

"Harry what the hell mate? Why are you standing up for him all of a sudden?" 

"I'm not standing up for him, I'm answering your questions. Besides, Malfoy doesn't need me to stand up for him. He's proven he's quite capable of that himself at the Manor, wouldn't you agree?" 

Draco was stunned into a dead silence.

Weasley's lip twitched, his eyes narrowing:

"Harry, I don't know what the bloody hell has gotten into you, or why you want to be friends with Malfoy all of a sudden--"

Potter cut him off:

"The circumstances have changed Ron. There's no reason to still be petty and angry over the past. What good will it do you? Besides, I was just talking to him, no harm done is there?" 

Weasley stared for a few long seconds, before he sagged:

"Fine. I suppose you have a point." 

"Thank you, Ron. Did you need something?" Potter was staying remarkably calm, and it was kind of impressive.

"Well not really, I was bored so I went looking for you, but it seems you're fine." Ron shrugged. He turned to look at Draco then, pursing his lips in thought for a moment:

"You know what Malfoy? Harry's right. You haven't been a prick so far, so I suppose it's fair enough to give you a shot." 

Draco blinked, then nodded:

"Alright Weasley. Thanks." 

Ron gave one last curt nod before turning around and walking away. 

Draco was dumbfounded. Completely and utterly stunned. He gaped at Potter, who was grinning proudly.

"Don't look so shocked, you could convince Ron in pretty much anything if you stayed patient enough." He explained.

"You convinced him to give _me_ a chance. Just like that. That isn't right. It doesn't make sense."

"Now you know how I felt when you first asked me on a date. You're welcome." Potter shrugged, returning his glasses to his face.

"Potter, I'm being serious right now." Draco snicked.

"So am I." The raven replied. "You haven't bullied anyone this year, insulted no one, you played nice and overall, been a much better guy than before. Why wouldn't Ron give you a chance?" 

Draco didn't have an answer for that.

"Exactly." Potter clicked his tongue at Draco's silence. "How long have we been sitting here for anyways?" He then asked. 

Draco shrugged. "Been a few hours at least." 

"Right. Wanna head back?" Potter asked, though he didn't seem all that eager to get away. To his own surprise, Draco wasn't either. In spite of this he hummed in agreement, swallowing a gasp of surprise when Potter dropped his hand. It felt cold and empty now. They both stood and dusted off, but Potter being Potter, stepped on his own robes and landed nastily back down on the ground, popping his ankle.

He cried out in pain as he rolled over on the ground, gripping at his ankle. It stood at an odd angle, and it made Draco recoil.

"Merlin Potter you clumsy arse." Draco scolded, kneeling next to the raven.

"Shut up and Episkey it for me, would you?" Potter squeezed through little painful huffs. Draco arched an eyebrow. Potter honestly trusted Draco enough to just let him point his wand at himself when injured. Draco ought to hex him just to teach him a lesson, but he pulled his wand out instead and pointed it at Potter's ankle.

"Episkey." He murmured, a small snap echoing as the bones reset themselves.

"Thanks Malfoy." Potter smiled, and stood, gingerly putting weight on his ankle.

"Yeah, yeah." Draco waved him off. "Bye Potter." He murmured, heading back into the castle. 

~

"You're in a suspiciously good mood after returning from a date with Potter." 

Blaise remarked when Draco walked into the common room, small smile on his face. The blonde rolled his eyes:

"Don't jump to conclusions, Zabini."

"You're the one who walked in here all smiles." Blaise quipped, smirking.

"Who says it has anything to do with Potter? The "date", was boring." Draco shrugged.

"Boring?" Blaise piped up, letting the other issue go for now.

"Just talking." Draco shrugged again, loosening his tie before pulling it off.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say that makes it sound like you wanted more to happen." Blaise pointed out, and Draco scowled, flushing:

"Of course I didn't. That's not what I meant. Everything we talked about was boring, and at one point Weasley came along too, and did the Gryffindor second chances shit on me." 

Blaise rolled his eyes:

"And that's so bad because?" 

"It's pathetic and unsettling." Draco lied smoothly, scoffing.

"Right. So did anything interesting happen?" Blaise asked, throwing his arm over the back of the couch.

"He held my hand like a fucking first year, and that isn't interesting at all, but it's the only noteworthy thing about the entire experience, which is telling of how dreadful it was." Draco scoffed and rolled his eyes, shaking out the prickling feeling out of his hand.

"Well, it doesn't matter. It's one more date and then they'll all go back to hating you when you ditch their Golden Boy." Blaise shrugged, losing interest, and Draco bit his lip, nodding.

This is just for the fucking bet.

~

Pansy had had _enough_. Draco obviously didn't come to his senses and stopped this charade, which meant she had to _do_ something. She heard everything he'd said last night, how Potter held Draco's hand, and her heart chipped away, because it meant Potter was starting to like Draco, and she felt bad enough already, but this just made it worse. She had to tell Potter. Better if she told him than if Draco did it, because she knew how nasty Draco would be about it. So that is how she ended up waiting for Potter in front of the Great Hall before breakfast a few days after the second "date", biting her lip. 

As soon as she'd seen him coming, she felt fidgety. When he'd approached she found her voice:

"Potter. I need to talk to you." 

He stopped and gave his friends a nod to go on without him, coming to face Pansy, brows furrowed:

"What's up Parkinson?" 

"It's about Draco." She started, carefully observing his expression softening, lips tugging into a smile he bit back. Her heart twisted.

"What about Malfoy?" He asked, schooling himself into the picture of nonchalance.

"About those dates he took you on, Potter, they.." Pansy forced herself to look into his eyes. "They weren't real. He and Blaise have a bet running. If he could get you on 3 dates, then Blaise will have to ask Longbottom out. It's just for the sake of winning that bet." 

And Pansy saw Potter shut down. She saw his face fall, his eyes cloud over, saw his lips tug downwards in a frown, and saw this crestfallen expression overcome his features. It was so fucking depressing.

"Oh." That was all he said. Just a quiet, resigned 'oh'. Pansy had to look away:

"I had to tell you, I felt bad." The girl muttered, biting her lip. 

"Thanks, Pansy." Potter murmured in the same solemn tone, addressing her by her first name before walking past her into the Great Hall, shoulders set into a firm line. 

~

Harry wasn't sure what he'd expected really.

He had believed Malfoy when he told him there was no bullshit behind it, and now he felt stupid about it. Played.

Just for a bet.

He was just a fucking bet.

Though, it was Malfoy he was talking about, this shouldn't have surprised him as much as it did. Or hurt him as much as it did. It felt like an odd burning yapping away through his chest. He had just gotten relaxed, overcome the oddity of the situation, and then learned it was all _fake_. Malfoy was a brilliant actor it seemed, after all. His chest tightened, he had really started to genuinely like the guy too, thought he was different now. And, just like everything else seemed to go for him, he got played. He took a few deep breaths as he walked to his table, not bothering to look at the Slytherin table. He wasn't angry, just very disappointed, disheartened. He was just a bet, and he'd thought that there was more to it. Guess not. It wasn't really surprising at this point was it? 

If Malfoy got Harry on 3 dates, Zabini would have to ask Neville out.

What a ridiculous bet. Playing on people's feelings.

Then again, it was silly to think Malfoy would ever actually like him. 

It didn't matter now anyways. They'd been on 2 "dates", and there was still one more remaining. Harry groaned at the thought of Malfoy asking him to the third one, all fake cheery smiles and pretenses. He ignored his friends when they asked what was wrong, and plastered on a fake smile to qualm their worries. 

His gut feeling was right, Malfoy did have an ulterior motive. It wasn't a selfish one at least, Harry tried to console himself.

His heart felt heavy the rest of the day regardless.

~

Draco had lied to Blaise.

About everything that happened on his 2nd date with Potter.

And he was lying to himself too.

That he didn't enjoy it.

That he didn't have fun.

That Potter was awful.

That Potter wasn't attractive.

But what he was lying to himself most about, was that he did it all just for the bet. First date certainly was just for the bet, but by the second one....well...

Let's just say he was looking forward to the third.

And, maybe even a forth...

~

"How about another date?" 

Harry's heart clenched painfully. He turned to face Malfoy, who had an easy smile on his face. For a second, Harry swooned, then he remembered. It was all fake. It was all for a bet. He didn't let any emotion show on his face.

"Yeah, sure." He replied, noting how Malfoy's smile seemed to grow. It was fake. He couldn't let himself forget that, or else he'd just end up even more hurt. Malfoy gave him the time and place, and Harry nodded, walking away, taking deep breaths to ease away the ache filling him.

~

The third date was at the top of the Astronomy Tower, in the room meant for stargazing. 

It would have been awfully romantic, had Harry not remained constantly vigilant of the biting fact it was all fake. 

Malfoy seemed softer tonight. Mellow. Shy even. 

_Stop it, Harry. He's acting._

He seemed a lot more keen on talking, and dropping little casual touches.

_You're imagining it Harry. You're just a bet. Remember._

Harry kept scolding himself all through the date, reminding himself that this meant nothing. 

He looked at Malfoy, standing under the light of moon and stars. He looked beautiful, and Harry hated himself for thinking that. For starting to like the arsehole, who had only used him to win a stupid bet. 

At one point, Harry decided that it was enough. He had planned to confront Malfoy, but he realized he didn't have it in him to yell and be mad, didn't have the strength not to start crying, so perhaps there was another way...

Gathering his courage, he took a step closer to Malfoy, then another. 

When they were only inches apart, Harry stopped, waited, gave Malfoy time to step away. He didn't. His eyes kept flickering between Harry's lips and Harry's eyes. The raven took another deep breath, licked his lips, and pressed them to Draco's. A flaming warmth shot down his spine, as he kept his lips still for a moment, before starting to move them against Malfoy's. The blonde's was pliant and still for another second, before starting to respond. His mind had shut down, and his body worked on autopilot while Potter kissed him. Draco tilted his head so their lips were a better fit, and felt Potter wrap his arms around him. Draco's arms were planted limply over Harry's chest, unsure what else to do. Harry pushed his tongue out to lick at Malfoy's bottom lip, the blonde complying, parting them. Harry slowly pushed his tongue into the other's mouth, pressing into Malfoy's, wrapping around it, pulling back while he explored the rest of Malfoy's mouth. The blonde tasted like apples, and Harry felt a shiver go through him. He ran his tongue over the roof of Malfoy's mouth, over his teeth, arms tightening around the boy unwittingly. The raven let his own teeth graze Malfoy's bottom lip, and he heard a loud, needy whimper tear out of the blonde. That's when Harry let his arms fall away from Malfoy, and started to pull away, taking a step back. Malfoy leaned forward, following Harry's lips until they finally disconnected, and Harry had a single foot of space between them. He allowed himself a moment. 

"What was that for?" Malfoy asked, voice deep and broken up, pupils dilated. He was breathing heavily. Harry gave a somber smile:

"I'm giving you something to regret."

Malfoy looked dumbfounded, and Harry let the second hang in the air, before he continued:

"You know, I had genuinely started to like you, to want you. Thought you were a different person than the prat I've known all these years."

Malfoy still looked lost. Harry shook his head at himself, not once dropping his eyes from Malfoy's gray ones:

"Congratulations, you won the bet. I hope Zabini and Neville work out in the end. I hope it was worth it, if nothing else. Goodbye, Draco." 

And Harry turned away, briskly walking away, desperate to put as much distance between them as soon as possible. 

~

"You _told_ him?!" 

Draco rounded on Pansy as soon as he stepped over the treshold of the common room. She stood to face him immediately, her eyes flaring:

"Of _course_ I told him, you idiot!" 

"Why the fuck did you tell him?!" Draco yelled back, looming over Pansy. She was not to be intimidated though, least of all of him:

"You were playing with his _feelings!_ He was starting to actually _like_ you! I couldn't just let you--" Her voice broke. "I couldn't just let you hurt him like you were planning to!"

"Since when do you care about Potter?" Draco snapped. 

"I don't, Draco. I have a heart, unlike you, and I felt bad for someone who was getting played with in the worst way possible! We're Slytherins, not monsters Draco!" She shoved at his chest, anger making her see red. Before he could get another word in, Pansy continued her barrage:

"Do I need to remind you how much you _resent_ your father for all of the emotional abuse and manipulation he used to bend you to his will? Do I?!" 

Draco paled.

"Exactly! No, I don't! You _hate_ him for it! _Why_ were you doing the _exact_ same thing?!" 

He swallowed.

"_Why?!_" She screamed, voice cracking. Her shoulders were shaking from her anger.

"I don't know..." Draco murmured, quiet as a mouse. She sighed:

"He didn't deserve it Draco. Especially not from you. You know this as well as I do. Unlike me, however, you were too prideful and stubborn to stop, refused to see the truth. Have you stopped for a _moment_ to consider how your actions impacted him? How he feels right _now_? No. You haven't. I'm so disappointed in you Draco. I thought you were better than this." A tear slipped out of her eye as she about-faced and stormed into the girl dormitories, not sparing him a backwards glance.

Draco let out a shuddering breath and limply collapsed onto the couch, too stunned to form a coherent thought for a long while. 

_'I'm giving you something to regret.'_

"Fuck." He groaned.

_'I'm giving you something to regret.'_

"Dammit!" He dropped his head into his hands. He could still feel Potter's arms around him, his lips on his own.

_'I'm giving you something to regret.'_

And regret it, he did. He regretted it desperately.

_'Goodbye, Draco.'_

~

That was it.

It was over.

Harry had done it.

He'd walked away from Malfoy, and now he would lick his wounds and move on. He'd graduate and get away from it all. That was the plan.

It was an efficient plan. No one would ever find out about this, and if Ron asked about Malfoy, Harry would shrug and make up some white lie. Shouldn't be too hard. Malfoy won his little bet, and Harry was left behind amok the chaos. That was fine. He walked away. He managed to do it, and Harry was proud of himself, even if his entire being ached.

~

The next morning, Pansy came down to the common room only to find Draco on the couch, pale and looking like shite. 

"You look like death warmed over." She scoffed. He didn't even flinch. He was completely stiff, eyes unfocused. 

"Draco?" Pansy called out to him, but he didn't react. Only blinked slowly, breathing slower. "Did you sleep at all?" Nothing. 

She sat in front of him, waving her hand in front of his face, hoping to snap him out of whatever daze he was stuck in. Nothing.

Pansy was growing more irritated at being ignored, so she slapped him, emptying all the rage that still simmered inside her from last night. That got his attention. His head whipped to one side, and he sat up, blinking a few times, seeming to notice her there. He bit his lip and she scoffed again:

"Why the fuck do you look like like shit?" 

"I stayed down here all night." He muttered, voice raspy.

"Why?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I was thinking." He shrugged again.

"About?" She rolled her eyes. If she had to pull his words out forcefully, she would up and walk away pretty quickly. She was mad at him, and didn't have the patience for his antics.

"I fucked up, Pansy." Draco sniffed. He looked at her, and despite herself, she softened at the lost look in his eyes. She wouldn't let him off the hook that easily though:

"What else is new?" Her tone was haughty. 

"I really fucked up." He muttered again, and Pansy bit her lip.

"Tell me then." She urged, leaning closer. 

"He kissed me last night." 

Pansy averted her eyes. 

"He gave me something to regret." 

She sighed, looking off. 

"You deserved it, Draco." She whispered, not one to lie or sugarcoat.

"I did." He agreed. "The problem is, I'm regretting it." 

Pansy looked back at him. 

"Really regretting it." He looked down into his lap. 

"What do you mean?" She muttered, though she knew what he meant. Her heart twisted again. She was going to get wrinkles early because of this stupid boy.

"I like him." Draco whispered in a breath, and Pansy felt like she could cry.

"Oh Draco.." Pansy sighed. "It's too late for that now.." She whispered, pulling him into a hug. He sagged against her.

"I know." He murmured.

~

"Harry..Harry please talk to me, Harry!" 

Hermione snapped Harry out of his stupor. He blinked, trying to remember where he was for a moment, before it him. He was just back from Malfoy, and he was on his bed, not speaking to anyone, all of his dorm-mates couldn't get through to him, so they ran and got Hermione, leaving the dorm afterwards, hoping she might be able to talk to him. Right.

"What is it?" He asked, and his voice sounded pathetic even to his own ears.

"What happened?" She asked softly, brows knitted in worry. Harry didn't know whether or not to tell her. Then, he decided to tell the story anyways, just not tell her who it was.

"Someone made a bet to take me on 3 dates, but I started to really like them, and their friend told me about the bet, and now I don't know what to think." He gushed, letting it all out of him. Hermione's face softened even more if possible, but Harry could see the cogs of her mind turning.

"Who is it?" She asked, but Harry shook his head gently. Not yet. He needed her unbiased opinion first.

"Alright. You started to like them, but they used you as the means to win a bet. When was this?" 

"Half an hour ago." Harry replied sullenly.

"Merlin.." Mione muttered. "Right. Are you mad at them?"

"Not really..I'm just disappointed. I really thought it was sincere." Harry almost choked up. Malfoy had laughed so freely. 

"You _really_ like them then?" Mione wanted to make sure.

"Yes, I do. It happened very quickly, rapidly, but now I'm here and I don't know how to get out." Harry admitted, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses.

"Tell me who it is, Harry." She pleaded, and Harry sagged, admitting defeat:

"It's Draco.." He whispered quietly enough so that only she would hear. He felt her tense.

"Draco Malfoy?" She muttered.

"What other Draco do you know?" Harry chuckled bitterly. "The one and only." He shook his head, looking at his bedding.

"Right. Malfoy. Right. Okay. That's fine, I think." She nodded to herself. "I'm not smart when it comes to Malfoy. I don't understand him at all. He's changed for the better after the war, but I don't know what to think about _this_.." She admitted.

If Hermione didn't know, it was hopeless.

"Do you reckon he'll apologize?" She asked, almost shyly.

"I don't know. A part of me hopes it wasn't all for that stupid bet, and another part is just laughing at me." Harry shrugged. He felt very helpless.

"When we go down for breakfast tomorrow, we'll see how he acts, alright?" The girl placed a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder and he gave her a sad smile.

It was always Malfoy causing trouble. Always.

~

Hermione didn't tell anyone anything of what Harry told her. She waited for him in the common room and looped her arm through his, leading him down to the Great Hall. He was paler than usual, and she guessed he didn't get much quality sleep. They entered, and she kept her gaze glued on Malfoy, who completely ignored her and stared at Harry. Malfoy was pale too, though he was always pale, so Hermione couldn't really tell. His eyes never left Harry, who just stared at the ground. Hermione noticed Parkinson shoving at Draco and elbowing him, and she noticed his leg start bouncing up and down. Something was definitely up. Her hold on Harry tightened, and he looked up, eyes immediately falling on Malfoy. She observed him, how his eyes cleared up, but his frown deepened. Malfoy was running out of time to do anything if he was planning to do something. 

They almost reached the Gryffindor table.

Hermione slowed down their pace, hoping the stupid blonde bastard would do something, because it was obvious he wanted to. 

She leveled him with a glare, willing him to hurry the fuck up, though he didn't see her. His eyes were stuck on Harry. 

Suddenly he stood up, and extricated himself from the Slytherin table. Hermione felt her heart speed up. He walked up to them in a few strides, and stood in front of Harry. The girl slowly removed herself from Harry's side, taking a few steps off to the side, but still sticking around, just in case.

~

"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry." Malfoy mumbled, eyes falling to the floor. Harry shook his head:

"Don't lie to me, please. I don't appreciate playing these games." 

"No, no, I'm not--I promise--Not this time. Please, I'm sorry Potter-" Malfoy stumbled over his words, losing his composure. Harry bit his lip.

"You said that once before." Harry whispered. "I believed you. You were lying." 

"I know. I know, just, I mean it this time, I fucked up, I know I did, but I'm sorry-" 

"Prove it." Harry cut off his rambling. Malfoy looked up. "Prove to me that you mean it Draco." Harry repeated himself.

"How?" The blonde asked, voice edging on pitiful. Harry didn't enlighten him. He would have to figure it out on his own. He would have to work for Harry's trust again.

Harry felt soft lips press to his then, and he momentarily forgot how to breathe. He remained still, surprised. He could feel eyes turning to them. Malfoy wasn't pulling away though.

"I'm sorry." The blonde murmured into Harry's lips. "I'm so sorry." He kissed Harry again, hands resting on Harry's waist. 

The raven was so close to giving in, but he held himself firm.

"I'm so fucking sorry, Harry." 

Draco kept muttering into Harry's pliant lips. He pulled away then, looking at Harry. His gray eyes were desperately searching Harry's face. And that was it. Harry saw that Malfoy really was sorry, really did want this. Harry saw that it was more than the bet, despite what Pansy had told him. And he sighed, pressing closer to Draco, connecting their lips firmly. The blonde responded eagerly, holding onto Harry so tightly it almost hurt. The raven's arms hugged Malfoy closer, their lips moving in earnest. Harry felt such a strong flutter rave through him, felt himself giving in, it would be okay though, because Draco wouldn't have done this in front of hundreds of students and teachers unless he meant it. And his lips wouldn't be moving so vigorously if he didn't mean it, he wouldn't be grasping Harry like a lifeline if he didn't mean it. And Harry could forgive him. 

And then Harry **woke up**.

What happened? 

Right, he left Malfoy behind in the Astronomy tower, and went back to his dorm, he threw himself into bed right away, and fell into a troubled sleep. Then it was all a dream. Since the conversation with Hermione, it was a fucking dream. Of course it was. Malfoy wouldn't apologize. He didn't care. Harry was just a bet to him. He shook off the empty feeling in his chest and got up to get dressed. He woke up a bit earlier than usual, so he had a long, depressing shower, and when he was out, most of his dorm-mates were waking up and stirring. He got dressed and ignored them and went down to the Great Hall, plopping down onto his seat, tired out of his mind. He just felt so drained. In a span of a few weeks, he'd managed to obtain a crush on Malfoy, and find out Malfoy played him. Leave it to Harry to always make things difficult for himself.

He looked around the Great Hall, just to search for a distraction from his thoughts. Not many people were down at this time, a few Ravenclaws, few Hufflepuffs, and he seemed to be the only Gryffindor. He pointedly ignored the Slytherin table, or at least attempted, but he gave in in the end and let his eyes search the Slytherins. He found the mop of blonde hair right away, and his stomach twisted. Draco was sitting with his head down, with Parkinson muttering something to him. Slowly, he lifted his head, and stared right back at Harry, eyes wide and almost scared looking. Harry held his gaze, though he felt terribly dizzy. He liked this stupid git, dammit. Though, right now, Malfoy looked positively miserable. He was pale, had bags under his eyes, and he looked so terrified and small, that for a moment Harry considered going over there and asking what the fuck is wrong with him. There weren't that many people around to gossip really, it wouldn't be damaging. He nearly did it too, but he remembered what Draco had done. A bet. He sold Harry out for a fucking bet. 

It was then that his anger finally caught up to him. And it caught up to him _violently_.

He'd been too shocked and disappointed before to feel it, but now, staring into this traitorous gray eyes, he felt it. He felt it burn him. He felt it course through his veins hotly, felt it bubble out of his chest, felt it crawl, coating his insides. He felt the anger color his vision red, and felt the anger slip beyond his control, slip into his magic, slip out of his body. In a flash, a shockwave washed over the Great Hall, the tables and the food on them flying up into the ceiling, before coming down to crash down. Distantly, Harry heard students scream and run around as they avoided the table that splintered down atop them, plates and cutlery cracking and breaking, showering down over everyone. He felt the Gryffindor table slip from under his hands and fly upwards, flipping and cracking. Harry was so angry. His anger still coursed through him, feeding into his magic, feeding into the havoc he was wreaking. He was still seeing red though, he couldn't focus on anything else. Malfoy fucking played him. He tossed Harry's heart around like it meant _nothing_. He turned him into a bet, into a fucking game, and Harry was just so fucking angry. Four consequent crashes snapped him out of his rage, and he blinked. All of his magic rushed back to him, colliding with him so forcefully he felt himself lurch away from where he'd been standing--he didn't remember standing up--and fly through the air before he collided with a solid wall, a crack echoing through the Hall as he noticed teachers flying out of their chairs and casting protection charms over students as the glass and ceramics rained down still, the splintered tables were now torn open on the floor, covering it with jagged wood and spilled food. Before everything went black, Harry heard someone calling out to him:

"Harry!"

Then he lost conscience.

~

When Harry woke up, he found himself staring up at a white, bland ceiling. Where was he? Oh, right, it must be the hospital wing. How did he end up here? He couldn't remember. He strained his mind to catch at the wisps of recognition that came to him when he awoke, only remembering things in flashes and bursts. He remembered anger. Rage like he'd never felt before. He remembered it burning him. He remembered the Great Hall. Covered in glass, splinters, food. He remembered losing control of his magic. Images snipped in front of his eyes before he shook his head, to try to rid it of them. That was a bad idea, as that little movement sent a wave of hot pain through his chest and down his spine. He attempted to heave a breath through the pain, but only ended up choking, and starting to cough. Something bubbled in his throat, and he just had time to lean over the side of his bed before he started heaving up blood and food onto the floor. There was more blood in the vomit than food, as he ate very little ever since his last encounter with Malfoy. That thought had him recoiling. Malfoy. Draco. He remembered wide gray eyes. He coughed out another glob of blood before falling back onto the bed, drawing in shallow breaths in an attempt to soothe out the ache around him. 

All the ruckus he'd likely caused had Madame Pomfrey rushing towards his bedside, eyes wide as she grabbed at her wand. She arranged him to sit up painlessly, and he blinked a few times, gratefully accepting the glass of water she was offering him. He sipped on it slowly, still smarting from his bloody coughing fit.

"Mr.Potter, I see that you are awake. Tell me, how do you feel?" 

He swallowed a sip of water, and placed the glass on the nightstand, hands trembling slightly.

"I'm in a lot of pain. I don't remember much of what happened. I sicked up blood a few moments ago." He explained, and noted the growing alarm in Madame Pomfrey's eyes with dread.

She only nodded mutely, and offered him some pain relieving potions, which he greedily swallowed, wincing at the taste. The ache all over his body and his nausea dimmed away though, and Harry felt like he could finally take a proper breath.

"How long was I out?" He asked.

"Two weeks, Mr.Potter. It was quite the scene you caused." She informed him, while she cast diagnostic spells over him, frowning.

"What did I do?" Harry asked, now in a panic as well. 

"I think it'd be better if you remember it yourself, gradually, instead of being told all at once." She murmured.

"Please, Madame Pomfrey, I can take it, what did I do?" Harry pleaded with her, and saw, with relief, the woman sigh and sit on his bed.

He listened with mounting horror the old Mediwitch retell him just how much damage he had caused. She explained how the tables went flying, crashing into the ceiling, splintering and cracking, how all the cutlery and plates and glasses shattered and rained down over students' heads, how the food exploded over the Great Hall. She explained that the moment he got a hold of himself, he'd forced all of his magic back to him, having it slam into him much too forcefully, which had him flying into a wall and breaking several bones. She explained how his magic was still throbbing so strongly when Mr.Malfoy got him to the infirmary in a panic that she couldn't heal him, because his magic would have burst again. She noted that that was the reason he was still in so much pain, because his own magic had been keeping him under stasis and pressure this entire time, only relenting a little after the first week. Just enough for Pomfrey to start the mending of his bones, but not enough for them to fully heal yet. Harry swallowed after her lumbering explanation was through, and just nodded mutely. Jesus. However, the most important thing was that no other student was harmed, because the professors reacted quickly to cast protection charms over the students, not having time to subdue Harry's outburst, and by the time all the students were lead out to safety, Harry was already sliding off the wall with a broken arm, leg, collarbones, three broken ribs, one of them punctured his lungs so that's why he coughed up blood, and an assortment of bruises and cuts and scrapes. 

"You have a visitor, Mr.Potter. He's been coming in here every day the past two weeks, fretting over you. Do you want me to let him in?" She asked, and Harry was too buzzed with all the memory returning to him rapidly to protest, so he just nodded. He thought it was Ron, but then Malfoy came bursting through the door, hurriedly making his way to Harry's bed. Harry was tired, and seeing Malfoy really wasn't helping the case. He had wrecked the entire Great Hall because of what Malfoy had done. Though, Harry knew he couldn't blame Malfoy entirely. It was Harry's own fault his anger consumed him and escaped his control, it was his own fault he lost his hold on his magic. Still, he just didn't want to talk to Malfoy right now. He did look up at the blonde though, and noted the same wide gray eyes, the same dishevelled platinum hair, the same pale complexion. Same everything as the day he lost himself. The only difference were the bags under Malfoy's eyes. He looked terribly shaken. 

"Potter, _Jesus Christ._" Malfoy mumbled, sitting down on Harry's bed, looking at him tentatively. Harry didn't have the strength to scowl, or even attempt to be mad. 

"What?" He just asked, voice on edge of giving out.

"You _destroyed _the entire Great Hall." Malfoy shivered at the memory. 

"I was angry. I lost control." Harry rubbed his eyes. He had slept for 2 weeks straight, and all he wanted to do now was go right back to sleep.

"Was it because of me?" Malfoy asked quietly, eyes not meeting Harry's. He seemed to find the white linen sheets very interesting all of a sudden.

"Yes." Harry replied simply, though it was not accusatory. 

Malfoy was quiet. Harry rolled his eyes:

"It's my fault I let it consume me. You should know that."

Malfoy said nothing, picking at the bedding, biting his lip.

"What are you doing here? You won the bet, what else do you want from me?" Harry snapped, irritated. What the hell was Malfoy loitering around for? The blonde looked up at him, eyes pooling with something akin to _concern._ As if.

"Do you have any idea how much you scared me? How much you scared Granger and Weasley? You were out for 2 weeks!" Malfoy exasperatedly rambled. 

"Oh I believe I must've worried Ron and Mione. You'll have to work a little harder to convince me though." Harry managed to glare. 

Malfoy drew into himself a bit.

"You scared the shit out of me Potter. I thought you were either going to kill the rest of us, or yourself." The blonde murmured.

Harry pressed his lips into a thin line, but said nothing otherwise.

"Then when you went crashing into that wall.." His eyes darkened. "..I thought you were a goner." 

Harry still said nothing.

"You crumpled off of the wall to the ground like a dead body, Harry!" 

Malfoy suddenly leered, his voice shaking. Harry winced at the use of his given name. He hadn't expected it. Malfoy sounded genuinely terrified, and Harry softened out a little, despite himself.

"I tried to pull all my magic back into me, before it caused more damage." He explained, studying the pale blonde. Malfoy nodded.

"You look like shit. What happened to you Malfoy?" He asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Didn't really get much sleep." Malfoy shrugged. 

"Why?" Harry persisted.

"I told you. I was worried about you, you stupid arse." Malfoy snicked, and Harry merely sighed:

"Well, I'm fine as you see. Can you leave? I don't want you here right now." 

Malfoy looked as if Harry had punched him, and his eyes turned pleading as he stared at Harry, and all of the bandages the raven was wrapped up in.

"I don't want to leave." He suddenly whispered, and it made Harry warm down to his toes, but he scowled at himself. _No._

"I want you to leave. As you saw, I'm not good with handling anger, and you being here isn't helping." Harry crossed his arms over his chest gingerly, mindful of his broken ribs.

"Please." It was so silent, so subdued. A vulnerable plea. Harry's heart clenched. _No._

"Malfoy, what do you want? I have nothing else you can take." Harry slumped back against his pillows, tired. He regarded Malfoy with his green eyes, taking in how he seemed to flush a few shades of red before finding the right words for whatever he wanted to say.

"What I want, is to apologize." He spoke. "For fucking up. For making the damn bet in the first place. It wasn't worth it." He shook his head. 

"Why should I believe you? Why should I believe anything you tell me? Would you have ever told me the truth had Parkinson not done so? Or would you have just kept leading me on?" Harry rasped, the anguish he'd felt slipping into his words.

Malfoy took in a deep breath, then spoke again, his hands clutching the bedsheets so tightly, his knuckles turned white:

"No. I wasn't ever planning on telling you. I was planning on taking you on many more dates instead."

Harry looked away, flushing. It sounded so nice, so sweet, he wanted to believe it, he really did, but he couldn't.

"Why should I believe that?" He asked, turning his gaze back onto Malfoy. 

"I kissed you back, didn't I?" The blonde spoke softly. He suddenly sounded very shy. No trace of the arrogant, cocky prat Harry always pictured. The raven snorted:

"That doesn't mean anything, Draco. Snogging is snogging. Feelings are something else entirely." 

Malfoy's face fell. 

"After the second date, I knew." He choked out, and Harry lifted an eyebrow. He felt so very betrayed, that he was tempted to just brush everything Malfoy would say off, but at the same time, a part of him wanted to listen. To forgive. "I knew I wanted more than the bet." He admitted, cheeks coloring. 

Harry sank deeper into his pillows. Sure enough, Malfoy _seemed_ honest, but that didn't mean he _was_ being honest. Harry spoke: 

"I want to believe you, trust me I do. But you played me. You would never have even told me. Whatever those dates would have turned into eventually would have started based on lies. Lies never stay hidden for long. I would have found out one day, and then everything would have fallen apart anyways." 

"I fucked up and I regret it so much, and I'm sorry. Whether you believe me or not, I wanted you to know that." Malfoy finally spoke, and stood up, arms wrapped around himself. He walked out of the infirmary without another word. 

Harry slid down on the bed, until he was staring at the white ceiling again. How did he get himself to this situation? 

He pondered everything Malfoy told him over the next hour or so. The guy looked like a mess, he spoke like a mess, but Harry couldn't help but doubt his words. It sounded too sweet to be true. Usually, especially when it came to his life, everything that seemed too good to be true, was. He didn't have more time to think about it, as the doors to the infirmary opened, and in walked Zabini and Parkinson. He sat up with some difficulty, as they approached.

Parkinson looked worried, while Zabini looked somewhere between scared and concerned.

"I won't sick my destruction upon you, don't worry. Only Malfoy can make me angry enough to lose control, though I suppose you two know all about _that_. Especially _you_, Zabini." Harry glared at the dark skinned boy, who was looking everywhere but at him.

"Potter. Did Draco talk to you?" Parkinson asked.

"Yes, he did. Did all the mandatory apologizing rot and then some for extra effect." Harry rolled his eyes. He couldn't help but be spiteful, though Parkinson deserved it least. She _was _the one who told him the truth after all.

"He meant it all, Potter. Every word. Do you realize what a mess he's been these past two weeks?" Zabini spoke.

"I saw." Harry relented. 

"You don't believe him, do you?" Parkinson asked, voice oozing with sadness.

"And why would I?" Harry asked her. Malfoy hadn't given him a convincing enough reason, but maybe his friends would.

"Because he calls out your name in his sleep. Not 'Potter', he calls out 'Harry'. Like he did that day in the Great Hall. Because he wakes up terrified that you'd died after crashing into the wall. Because he fucked up, and he feels horrible about it, and doesn't stop moping around, murmuring apologies, hoping you'll be fine so he could actually tell you in person how he really feels." Zabini flared up.

Harry remembered that the last thing he'd heard before falling unconscious, was someone desperately calling out to him. Harry choked up at the words that were leaving Zabini's lips.

"The bet was my idea Potter. If you want to blame anyone, blame _me_." Zabini said, eyes flashing.

"It wasn't you who played me though, was it?" Harry shot back, his own eyes flaring up. Parkinson placed a hesitant hand on Harry's forearm:

"The night of the third date, when he'd come back, he yelled at me. About telling you." She began, not moving her hand. "We both said things, and I stormed out of the common room. When I came down the next morning, he was still sitting where I'd left him the night before, staring nowhere. I had to slap him before I got him to snap out of it." She paused, but Harry didn't give her any reaction, so she just continued: "He told me what happened with you." 

"And?" Harry asked, cursing his voice for betraying his want to know more.

"And he said that he _liked_ you. I told him it was too late, and he agreed with me. He was miserable that entire day."

Harry's throat closed. Dammit, it was difficult to stay mad when everything they were saying sounded so painfully honest and raw. 

"Think about it Potter. What good do we have out of lying to you about this? What good does he have? We gain nothing. Frankly, we don't care about your love life. We care about Draco. And right now, you're the only thing that can cheer him up. We aren't saying you have to date him or any such shit, but you should believe him at the very least, because everything he told you is the absolute truth. Everything we've told you is the truth." Zabini pointed out. 

Harry sighed, shoulders slouching. Parkinson's hand was still on his arm.

"When the second date was over, I realized I liked him. Actually started to like him. I thought he was a much better person than I'd ever given him credit for. And then Parkinson told me he'd made a bet of me, and that none of it was real." He told them. The girl's hand on his arm tightened. 

"I didn't know better at the time, Potter. All I knew was that this stupid bet existed and that I felt bad for you." She explained.

"And then the morning after the third date, I came down to the Great Hall, and saw him. I was still just so disappointed. He looked up and he looked so scared and pale, and it made me angry. So angry. I lost control of myself. And you know the rest." He told them, and neither said anything in return.

"Pomfrey told me he brought me here?" Harry asked.

"Yes. Professor McGonagall was crowding all of the students out of the Hall after you knocked yourself out, but he pushed past her and ran in, and picked you up, carrying you here. We went with him, mostly because he was shaking so much he couldn't even speak. He genuinely thought you'd died. For real this time." Parkinson explained. 

Harry nodded, and pursed his lips. 

"She said he came here every day for two weeks?" He asked. This time it was Zabini who answered:

"Yes. He dragged me along some nights, because he wanted to make sure he wasn't imagining you were actually breathing. So he had me confirm it. He practically lost his damn mind." 

Harry laughed. He couldn't help it. Malfoy had honestly thought that Harry would die just from hitting a wall. Though, his lungs are punctured by his ribs, and he probably looked much worse than he did right now, likely was covered in blood as well, so he couldn't really blame Malfoy for panicking.

"No one tell him I threw up blood when I woke up because one of my broken ribs punctured my lungs." Harry murmured. 

"Oh Gods, please no. He'll walk off the twist worrying." Pansy shuddered, her hand dropping into her lap finally.

"Do you believe him now Potter? Do you believe us?" Zabini asked. Harry studied his face. It was arranged into hopeful concern. 

Did he believe them?

Did he like Malfoy enough to forgive him? 

Yes and yes, his mind and heart screamed simultaneously. He bit back a grin. Damn Malfoy for making him smitten like this. 

"I do." Harry nodded, letting the smile grace his face. Zabini and Parkinson had matching grins on their faces just a moment later.

"We won't tell him a word about this. I think it'll be much better if he heard it from you." Zabini assured Harry, and Harry nodded again. They stood to leave, and just as they were about to exit, Harry remembered something:

"Hey! Uhm, I kind of kicked him out earlier, tell him I'm sorry and that I don't mind if he visits." He grinned, flushing.

Parkinson threw him a wink over her shoulder, and dragged Zabini out after her.

~

It was two days later that Malfoy came in to visit again. Harry was very happy to see him, but he schooled his expression. He wanted to wait until he was healthy and discharged before he told Malfoy everything.

"Hello, Potter." He spoke quietly. "Pansy told me you apologized for kicking me out the other day." 

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I just woke up and wasn't exactly feeling best. I felt kind of bad after the fact. Sorry bout that, Malfoy." 

Malfoy nodded, eyes raking over the bandages that were still on Harry. The good news was that his bones would completely heal in a few days, now that Harry's own magic wasn't holding him hostage, so it wouldn't be long before he would be able to talk to Draco properly.

"Anything else?" Malfoy asked, and Harry shook his head. Malfoy seemed disheartened, but he turned around and left without a word. Harry smothered his grin into his pillow. Soon enough.

~

The day he was finally discharged, Harry felt so good. He was all healed up, and he had a goal in mind as he walked determinedly towards the Great Hall. He hesitated entering for a few moments, but when he came in, he found everything was repaired. There was no sign of the damage he'd caused. Everyone stopped eating to look at him warily, and he rubbed his neck for a moment, before remembering what he was doing, and heading straight to the Slytherin table, ignoring the odd looks. 

He sat directly in front of Malfoy, and proceeded to pile some food onto his plate, managing to ignore the gaping blonde with great effort. He ate calmly, and he could feel Zabini and Parkinson bursting at the seams next to him.

"Potter?" Malfoy finally asked. Harry looked up from his food:

"Yes?" He asked, leaning his chin into his palm on the table.

"What are you doing here?" The blonde asked, puzzled.

"Eating." Harry shrugged. "Getting accustomed to this table." 

"Why?" Malfoy was giving him an undecipherable look. Zabini chimed in helpfully:

"Well he'll be sitting with us more often now, won't he?" 

Malfoy turned his confusion on his friend:

"What are you on about?" 

It was Pansy's turn to pipe in:

"It's no fun if your boyfriend eats at a different table every day is it?" 

Malfoy paled, then flushed, then paled again, snapping around to face her. Harry had nearly lost his composure by then. 

"What the hell--?" The blonde was staring in complete, unyielding gripe at her. Then his eyes flickered to Harry, who was grinning widely.

"Go on a date with me Draco?" Harry asked finally, after so long of waiting.

Draco promptly choked on his own spit, and proceeded to cough into his plate. He couldn't believe his ears. 

"Errr??" He grunted dumbly. Zabini and Parkinson lost it. They burst into violent, raucous fits of laughter. Harry was still grinning at Draco, who was slowly starting to blush.

"I believe you Draco." Harry said, delighting as he watched realization dawn on Malfoy's face, and then watched it light up like a Christmas tree. He had a large, goofy grin on his face, and his eyes twinkled with mirth. 

"You do?" He couldn't have sounded more giddy if he was a child that was given candy.

"Yes. I believe you. Won't you go on a date with me?" Harry nodded, his own eyes shining just as brightly as Draco's. 

"Gods, yes." Draco sighed, and bit his lip, trying to bat away the grin on his face, but it was failing miserably. Harry started laughing too then, the rest of Slytherin giving him odd looks, and he was sure they would kick him out of their midst, but that didn't seem to happen, they opted to politely ignore them. Draco laid his hands on the table and then dropped his head down into them, squealing into his sleeve. Harry cooed and Zabini and Parkinson were slowly calming down from their fits.

"You should have seen your face Draco. Oh my God, it was priceless." Pansy poked Draco in the shoulder.

"And how you looked at Potter when he sat down. Best thing I've ever seen." Zabini snickered. Pansy rolled her eyes at Blaise's antics, muttering so only he would hear her:

"You nearly shat yourself asking Longbottom out, Blaise. I'm glad he said yes, though."

"Shut up. I hate you all." Draco grumbled loudly, but you could hear his smile. Harry pouted:

"Even me?" 

"_No_. Git." He muttered again, and Harry pat his blonde head, satisfied. Draco shot up immediately:

"I am _not_ a dog!" He was pouting, smoothing his hair. Pansy leaned in towards Harry:

"Don't you ever let him fool you. He _loves_ having his hair played with." 

"I do _not--_I swear to God, Harry, if you try I will--" But that sentence was cut off as Harry reached over and buried his hand into Draco's hair. It was very soft and a wonder to card through. He was biting his lip very forcefully, but eventually a small contented mewl slipped past, and he slapped a hand over his mouth as Harry sat back, pulling away, with an arched eyebrow.

"You were saying?" The raven tilted his head. Draco scoffed, and pouted. 

"Such a child." Zabini grumbled. "Take him away Potter, he'll be squealing our ears off the moment you're out of earshot. Please, for the love of Merlin, just take him with you this entire day. Tucker him out, then return him to us. If I have to hear one more long rant about your hair or your eyes I will smother him then myself." 

Draco scoffed harder, crossing his harms over his chest again. Harry laughed:

"Alright. I'll take him. Come on, Draco." 

Harry stood and motioned for Draco to come along. The blonde did with a bit of grumbling, and soon enough they were out of the Great Hall. Harry took hold of Draco's hand, twirling their fingers together. 

"So you rant." Harry snorted, and Draco shook his head:

"Sometimes. I can't help it, okay?" He whined defensively. Harry smiled:

"It's cute. I'll pay money to have those two tell me everything." 

"Oh Gods no--Harry I swear to Merlin if you do that--"

"You'll what? Snog me to death?" Harry sniggered at the thought. What a way to go out.

"A fair option, but I was thinking more along the lines of shagging you to death." Draco gave him a wry smirk.

"Were you now? What makes you so sure you'll be shagging me and not the other way around?" Harry returned the wry smirk. Draco didn't dignify that with a response.

"You actually believe me." He murmured instead, still dazed. 

"Yes. I like you enough to take the risk." Harry's smile was small, but true.

"Aren't I glad." Draco shook his head, running his hand through his hair.

"You should've seen your bloody face though, oh my God, you looked aghast." Harry chuckled.

"You just showed up out of bloody nowhere! Then Blaise and Pansy started yappering on, and I had no idea what was going on!" Draco defended himself. Harry leaned his head on Draco's shoulder while they walked:

"That was the point, love. The element of surprise." He mused, and Draco stopped talking abruptly. He just kind of stared at the floor. "You know, you seem awfully flustered." Harry joked.

"Am not." He whined.

"Your ears are red." Harry pointed out, and Draco squeezed his hand tighter.

"Shut up." Draco pouted. "What will the others say about this?" He snickered, but a part of him did worry.

"What do I give a rat's arse what they say? I snagged the cutest boy in school, they can just die of jealousy." Harry shrugged. Draco flushed, and he was glad Harry's head was resting on his shoulder, so the raven couldn't see him.

"And I got the Savior of The Wizarding World. I suppose you have a point." The blonde agreed. Harry snorted:

"I resent that title."

"How the hell did this happen?" Draco suddenly blurted, after a few more moments of comfortable silence. Harry shrugged:

"The big bad Slytherin had a heart after all." 

Draco made an offended noise, something between a scoff and a snort. The night in the Astronomy Tower flashed in his mind then, speaking of hearts, and how quickly his own beat then, and Draco realized he _really_ wanted Harry to kiss him again, but this time for _real_. With the air cleared between them. He stopped walking then, stopping Harry with him. Harry stood in front of him, brows furrowed.

"Kiss me." Draco suddenly demanded, and Harry couldn't help but laugh.

"Kiss you?" Harry asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Yes." Draco nodded. "Like you did in the tower.." He trailed off, and Harry laughed again, melting into his shoes. He stepped closer to Draco, smiling softly the whole time. When there was mere inches of space between them, Harry murmured:

"Even the running away part?" 

Draco frowned, and grabbed Harry's robes tightly:

"Don't you dare ever do that to me again."

Harry nodded and pressed their lips together, wrapping his arms around Draco. Draco replied fiercely, tilting his head. Harry held him tighter, asking for access, which Draco gladly granted. Harry's tongue slipped into Draco's mouth, and Draco's toes curled in his shoes as he felt pleasure and warmth start at the bottom of his spine and spread through the rest of his body. After a few moments, Harry pulled away, still holding Draco. He grinned:

"So about that date. What do you want to do?" He asked, while they stood embraced. Draco scrunched up his nose, but grinned helplessly in return nevertheless:

"What do people even do on dates?"

~

_Fin._


End file.
